


Her Mettle

by docspire



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Xaela (Final Fantasy XIV), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2020-10-20 12:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20675600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/docspire/pseuds/docspire
Summary: Cadette Mevois, at birth named Khadagan, of the Dotharl tribe, is issued a challenge by her Khatun after many years having been raised away from home, and her eventual rediscovery of and return to the tribe.  Does she accept, or does she turn tail and return to the safety of her Western home?





	1. A Challenge Considered

The time spent living among the Dotharl, the tribe of her birth, was nothing short of enlightening to Cadette, who had for many a summer believed herself to be born of the shores of the Western isle of Vylbrand. Though it was the word of her adoptive mother that touched off Cadette’s journey, the path of discovery that now lay open before her was one paved by the tales and traditions of her own - the Xaela of the Azim Steppe.

Accompanied by her beloved, who she’d learned but recently was herself of the Steppe, the thaumaturge sat upon one of the many vistas of their shared homeland. The landscape was absolutely breathtaking, with striking emerald grasslands as far as the eye could see, broken only by the clarity of clean, sapphire hued waters and looming cliffs and mountains. The very image, she believed, of a freedom she’d never truly known, and yet ever longed for.

“Have you yet challenged the Mettle, dear?” Khorijin, the runty Chaghan who had, albeit previously under an understandably deceptive visage, been Cadette’s lover, piped up in the shared silence. “Of all the learning and discovery you’ve done, one would think you were made a softer Xaela, less Dotharli, even.”

While fair, the assessment stung the taller Xaela. She was very much of the Dotharl, every bit a Xaela as she’d always been, although she could not help but shake the newly minted notion that something was missing, something that was a part of her identity.

“I’ve not,” Her reply came after moments of pensive silence. “If I might be honest with you, it did not cross my mind until your mention. Perhaps I shall discuss it with the Khatun.”

Though she herself had not yet endured the trial of Bardam’s Mettle, Cadette knew well the stories she’d heard around Dotharl Khaa. A trial, to be challenged on one’s own, wherein they were to follow in the footsteps of Bardam, a hero whose story lives on in legend, culminating in a bid to tame a Yol, itself a fearsome denizen of Othard’s Fanged Crescent. Those who emerged from this rite of passage victorious are recognized and hailed as warriors of the Steppe, a title of respect, however perilous the journey thence might be for one among this land of nomadic peoples.

“I believe you should. Worry not, however; I’ve seen your strength, and I know you’ll fare well.” The shorter woman smiled politely. “I shall be waiting for your return, though first, you must rest if you are to succeed.”

“Again with demanding I rest?” A laugh and roll of the eyes betrayed Cadette’s agreement. “Very well, I’ll return to the tribe, and when at last I do wake, I’ll speak with the Khatun.”

With a warm embrace and tender kiss, the pair parted, returning to their respective peoples, that they might prepare for what was to come.


	2. A Challenge Received

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A challenge is laid before Cadette, one that would leave her identity among those of her tribe without question.

The arrival of first light brought with it the restless stir of the young woman, roused by her Dotharli peers when leaving their shared yurt to go about their lives. Knowing resistance would avail her of naught, Cadette finally rose, making ready in the garb bestowed upon her by her fellows, staff slung across her back. Today, this sun, she was determined to shed the image of being a softer, somehow lesser one among her own.

With a simple, but hearty breakfast consumed, there was a moment of hesitation whilst glancing to the rather imposing woman who held station as the tribes khatun. Hers was an air of aggression, a near-intimidating aura that drew something resembling reverence from the thaumaturge, whose wit had found them anew, bringing the push of one of ambition to her stride.

“Khatun, I’ve given some thought, and…” Cadette began, though interrupted by the raised finger brought before her. Though taken aback, she realized rather swiftly that the circumstance was perhaps one of import for such an interruption to be warranted.

“Your timing is fortuitous, Khadagan.” A boast, though phrased in welcome. “You’ve spent much time with us since your return, and the time has come for you to earn recognition as a warrior among us. I bid you challenge the rite of Bardam’s Mettle. Tarry not, for I expect word of your success this eve.”

The declaration made the thaumaturge freeze. There was no way that she could possibly have known, no way she could have figured out just what it was that the returned tribeswoman had chosen to approach her regarding… Was there?

“I beg your pardon, Khatun, but you would have me do what, again?” She queried, though cursing to herself for such a blatantly oblivious question. “You bid that I challenge this trial now, of all times?”

“I do. Perhaps you might have forgotten, or your living in the West caused it to escape you, but you are a woman of the Dotharl. Every one of us is a proud warrior, every one of us knows what it means for their soul to burn bright in battle. I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you’ve tasted combat, Khadagan, and truly, you are as we all are – strong, proud, ever ready for battle. This sun, you earn your rightful place among the warriors of the Steppe. Now go, and do not disappoint us; just as ours is the soil, so too shall the day belong to you.”

So that was the way of it; on the word of she who led the tribe of Cadette’s birth, she was to travel across the Steppe and challenge this rite of passage traditional to the Xaela, the selfsame trial that her forebearers, likely including her very own parents, undertook and emerged the stronger for. For once, of all the myriad lessons and trials that Cadette had been exposed to amongst her kin, she was to make this journey alone, with the expectation that she conclude the journey, and the ever-important rite, very much alive, if not entirely unscathed for the effort presented.

“I understand,” A gesture of hand over fist marked her acknowledgement. “I shall take my leave of you, and return with word of success. The tribe, and yourself, shall not be left wanting.”

With another display of readiness, Cadette turned, striding out of the camp with the approving, almost eager glances of Khatun and tribesman alike following. Though there might be few who might be skeptical, she was determined to show her strength in the face of such adversity. This would not be the fight to bring her to keel.


	3. A Challenge Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadette has but one way forward.

The journey was, in its own right, a perilous one. The trial, and everything one faced within, lay on the western edge of Ceol Aen, a valley that lay north of the settlement from whence the young woman came. Between the two locations, there were not only the beasts of the Steppe, many of whom might too readily see her as a pest to be laid to waste, but in these lands, along every malm, there could just as easily be the warriors of other tribes, eager to purloin a fresh-faced warrior from one of their counterparts.

Fraught though her travels were, Cadette found herself standing before the mouth of the trail, marked by a rope-covered entry, where she was to begin. Nerves had not occurred to her as the liability they were when setting out for this place, but faced now with the harsh reality, an act that her forebearers had undergone themselves, there was yet another moment’s hesitation. What if she wasn’t truly ready? What if she…

No. Now was not the time to start worrying herself with what might be. Shaking her head and giving her cheeks a light slap, the thaumaturge pressed on, slipping herself past the ropes and walking deeper into the expanse that lay ahead.

“Here goes nothing, and yet everything…”

Emerging onto an open plain, a quick stretch was all else that the woman allowed herself before drawing her staff and charging forth, her first spells cast against a small pack of Halgai Shoots accompanied by a much larger Steppe Dzo. The cutting winds cast back under her rain of fire and ice most assuredly stung, but were themselves more tolerable in comparison to the ill fortune of being cast backwards upon the ground by the Dzo, itself felled swiftly, as though in response.

Being pitted against the wild of the Steppe felt as child’s play after having joined her kin on their hunts for many of the same. This would change rather swiftly, however, when faced with a barrier, itself seemingly guarded by two chuluu that themselves approached Cadette, their own casts roaring about her, leaving little quarter for her to answer with aught but the most robust of her own repertoire, each spell screaming past her answered with the violent rumble of fiery blasts.

In the heat of this moment, one in which the thaumaturge was forced to quite literally fend for herself, without the support of or rescue by another, something had taken hold in her chest; a swell, a burning unlike that which she’d never felt before. It wasn’t painful, no, it was invigorating… the heat of battle made the Dotharli woman feel alive. Fierce cries found purchase in her throat with her advance, with her grappling with that which came her way before yet another such barrier fell, revealing an arena with what appeared akin to the Aurochs of more familiar lands.

Every fibre of Cadette’s being was struck by a surge of adrenaline, wasting no time in laying into her foe. After what felt like a small eternity of sprinting about whilst attempting to throw her magicks back at the beast, it finally fell, leaving the path ahead wide open to the would-be warrior.

All there was now was to leap, to rush onward. There would be no resting upon her laurels, much less resting at all, not now that she’s made it this far.


	4. A Challenge Conqurered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After trials push Cadette to her limit, yet another remains

Landing after such a considerable leap was much less pleasant than Cadette had quite liked, but all the same, she pressed on; worrying about scraped knees was never something she much cared for, anyway.

Foes that lay in the path ahead of her were becoming almost more formidable than before, though not so much as the chuulu she’d laid low previous. Her explosive casts drew satisfaction for the thaumaturge, watching with a wild glint and matching shouts of delight as foes of stone and feather both fell before her, though not without taking her share of shots. It was at this point that the realization of just how hard she was pushing herself took hold, taking a knee for but a moment once she arrived at her next challenge with muscles burning with the intense push and painful bruising both.

Cadette wouldn’t be long to rest before realizing what her next challenge was; something in the air of this open arena had a stranglehold such that she could not manipulate even the most rudimentary of magicks. Left without her principal means of defense, muscles pumped almost harder than before, running, ducking, rolling… all in a bid to avoid the attacks thrown at her from a most unusual foe, in that the apparent golem looming over her in the ring played the challenges as trials unto themselves; trials that, in spite of the pain of exertion, she was able to evade without very real harm.

Having at last surpassed the latest of the trials, nothing was quite so stunning for the thaumaturge than the fall, being launched from the rapids that roared over falls down which she was cast, rather unceremoniously crashing onto a stone path below. Though stunned for a moment by the impact, her ability to challenge that which lay ahead was no less sharp, in spite of the taxing push on her skill with such magicks as she wielded. Truly, such a challenge did nothing to faze or deter her effort, instead emboldening the efforts being brought to bear by the western raised Xaela.

Scaling a final, short flight of steps, eyes of violet scanned across the space before her. A specially carved floor, and those wall paintings… she’d finally reached the altar upon which she’d face her final challenge in this trial that would remain unmatched in her life. 

Here, Cadette was to tame a yol.

Descending from the skies above with a terrible cry, the avian beast wasted no time in making its presence and repute well known, a hard beat of its wings sending Cadette careening backward. Catching herself before being sent off the altar, a sidewise sprint came with a stop in the center of the room, positioning herself in the most precarious of places – beneath the yol, where talon or beak could quite easily make ribbons of her flesh.

It was in this place that she sent a veritable firestorm upward, snarling in a vicious fashion. Although her goal was not to roast the beast, the flurry appeared to have the desired impact; her foe’s attacks became more tentative, their bite less sure…

Then, with a desperate struggle against furious wingbeats that met her assault, the yol had taken to the skies above once more, leaving a bruised, beaten, blood-streaked Cadette to sway and stagger ever so slightly. Could this have been… had she just…

“I’ve done it…” She breathlessly whispered to herself. “Oh, praise Nhaama, I’ve done it!”

With a loud, triumphant cry cast to the skies, her attention was caught by something that lay upon the ground at her feet; whether this instrument was there all along, or had tumbled with the yol’s departure, she couldn’t tell. All the same, she took it in hand, dusting it off to give a loud, clear whistle.

Nothing. Huh. Or no, wait, was that…?

Once more with eyes turned skyward, her breath hitched and heart skipped a beat, watching with eyes narrowing. Was it coming back to try and finish her off, or…?

Landing before her, the winds stirred by the large, strong wings of the yol were more peaceful, the look in its eyes a more subdued one. Approaching slowly, it appeared to bow, granting quarter for Cadette to climb upon its back, at which point it took off skyward, the woman hasty in finding a safe grip upon its back.

Further shouts of her triumph rang out into the night sky, an awestruck countenance washing over the weary Xaela whilst circling overhead before descending toward Ceol Aen. There was to be someone waiting for her there, eager to learn of her success.

On this night, she felt almost unstoppable, but above all, she felt more like all was right than she’d ever felt before. Now and evermore, she was a warrior of the Steppe, of her homeland.

**Author's Note:**

> Khorijin Gesi-Chaghan is written and created by seina-kurokiba on Tumblr, special thanks to him for his contributions to this piece!


End file.
